Alters
by Naasad
Summary: Damian finds out Tim has Dissociative Identity Disorder and decides to find out why. / Platonic TimDami / Disclaimer: Author does not have D.I.D. / Rated T for discussions of abuse / Bruce is a good dad
1. Chapter 1

Damian looked up as Drake entered the kitchen, sharp retort already on his tongue, before Grayson interrupted.

"Hey, Chloe," Dick said. "Tim finally take a break?"

Damian frowned. Chloe? Perhaps Drake was genderfluid? But Grayson had referred to him in the same sentence.

'Chloe' shrugged and smiled. " _Finally_ , yes. I've been trying to get out for about a week. I'm going to get us some actual food and then try and take a nap before someone else fronts."

Grayson nodded. "Have you met Damian yet?"

Chloe shook their head. "No, I haven't, I've wanted to, though. JJ thinks he's a threat that needs to be taken out, but I think there's just a whole lot of misunderstandings going on, to be honest. Hi, Damian." They waved. "I'm Chloe, I'm one of Tim's alters. Hopefully, you'll be seeing a lot more of me, since I'm one of the few who _actually_ knows how to take care of this body." They rolled their eyes, but there was a touch of fondness.

Damian frowned. "Alters?"

Chloe nodded. "We have Dissociative Identity Disorder. Tim had a pretty bad childhood, so we became a system. Sam and I share the duties of organizer and then there's JJ. You've met him, but he likes to pretend to be Tim. He just thinks it's what's best for all of us. We also have a few littles, but they're pretty shy. You probably won't meet Em until she's a little older, and you probably won't ever meet Ben."

Damian glanced at Grayson, who smiled and explained.

"Tim doesn't like to talk about his parents, he loved them, but they weren't exactly great. His mind split itself into several different people just to protect him from… not them, but definitely the results of their actions."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Then that's because of them."

Grayson shrugged. "It's complicated, but I think we can agree they weren't good people. Anyways, I think Chloe's been around the longest, right?"

Chloe looked up from the sandwich she was making and nodded. "Yep, as far as I remember, I've been around since Tim was about five, and Ben came shortly after. JJ's the newest, he's been around for only four years or so."

"Are any of you dangerous?" Damian demanded.

Chloe gave him a Look. "We're _all_ dangerous, just like Tim's dangerous, and you're dangerous, and Dick is dangerous, and Bruce is dangerous, too. But we're only a danger to those who deserve it. Our system exists to protect Tim, not to say we don't have our own lives, dreams, desires, but that's what we're here for. If Tim's in danger, we're going to be a danger right back. That's how you met JJ. You attacked Tim, and he came out to protect him and all the rest of us, just like he did all those years ago."

Dick flinched, and Damian's attention snapped to him.

"What happened?"

Dick glanced at Chloe for permission, then nodded to himself. "Tim was captured, tortured, and brainwashed by the Joker. We spent months looking for him, and finally found him as Joker Junior. It didn't end well. Joker ordered him to shoot Bruce, and JJ came out for the first time, shooting the Joker instead, and almost killing him. We thought JJ was Joker Junior for the longest time, that Tim was still brainwashed, just because of the _name_. We locked him up and did test after test, and JJ stayed out because he thought we were going to hurt Tim.

"He was… not cooperative." He winced. "I mean, he was _traumatized_ just as much as Tim, and here we were, bringing out the handcuffs and the needles. Eventually, Tim, Sam, and Chloe managed to come out and explain what was going on. Bruce still doesn't trust JJ completely, just because he's paranoid. The worst part is that because of the way we handled it, JJ assumes that's how everyone _else_ will react, so he just pretends to be Tim. Alfred's the only one who can tell them apart now, not even Bruce can. Because JJ's afraid of us." Dick smiled sadly at Damian. "Does it make sense now why I've been urging you to apologize with your _words_?"

Damian thought for a moment, then turned to Chloe. "I… apologize. I was… insecure… in the fact that Drake had everything I ever wanted, including my father's… _trust_ , and I decided to belittle and attack him. I was in the wrong."

Chloe smiled and saluted, dumping her plate in the sink. "I'll relay the message. Now, if you'll excuse me, this body needs some sleep.

Dick nodded, then as Chloe left, he turned to Damian and mouthed _'I'm proud of you.'_


	2. Chapter 2

"How does it work?" Damian asked, not bothering to open his eyes as Drake intruded on his meditation. And it was Drake - unlike his father and other siblings, he'd learned to tell all the differences.

Tim frowned. "How does what work?"

Damian scoffed. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. Your system. My research indicates every part has a role to play. Tell me."

"I don't have to tell you shit."

"Fine." Damian paused a moment, just long enough to retain an air of superiority. "Get out, then."

Drake practically growled at that.

"Or…."

Tim rolled his eyes and left.

Damian huffed and returned to his meditation.

The next day, he cornered Tim in the Cave and demanded a spar. "So," he said, once his bokken was pressed neatly under Tim's chin. "Roles."

"Why do you want to know?" Tim's eyes narrowed and his hands twitched in a way that told the boy he soon would be dealing with someone very much not Tim, for all his efforts otherwise.

So he sighed and put away the weapon. "Because my role as Robin is to protect this family. Obviously, your alters," he spat the word, "are included in those duties."

Tim glared and threw down his bo, stalking away toward the stairs, hands still shaking. "Fuck off, Damian."

Damian threw his hands in the air in frustration. Pah! And Grayson thought being honest would help. Whatever, it was a setback, but it would not deter him.

He waited a week and a day this time, just long enough to get Drake's guard down, before cornering him in the library. "Well?" he demanded.

Just as his target turned around, Damian realized he had made a mistake. "Oh, hey, Damian," Sam said.

Damian's eyes narrowed. "I want to talk to Drake."

"Sorry," Sam said, seemingly genuinely apologetic. "We don't actually have that much control over who fronts when. Maybe if JJ was out, he could switch back, but in the meantime, I can take a message."

Damian huffed and stalked away, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

The next time, he waited until he was sure it was Drake fronting, and walked up to him, barely being courteous enough to leave numerable escape routes. "I want to know."

Tim cried out in frustration and pushed him away. "Why? Why do you want me to talk about the worst parts of my life - which I barely even remember! - when you know very well, you can just read Bruce's file! Do you want me to ask you about your time with the League?"

Damian's eyes narrowed, but he made sure to speak evenly, lowly, at that. "I actually do wish someone would take an interest, but, very well. I will go find Father's file - which," he paused, "I had no idea existed, since it is completely separate from your own."

Tim groaned and rubbed his hands down his face, and Damian knew the conversation was over.

He turned to leave.

"Wait." Tim took a moment to collect his thoughts. "I don't… actually hate you. And if you want to talk… any one of us will listen."

Damian turned back, shocked, but gathered himself enough to nod once in acknowledgment.

"And the file is labeled Schuttmann Family. S-C-H-U-two Ts-M-A-two Ns. I'll link it back to mine the next time I'm down there."

Damian shook his head. "I will do it." He thought Drake almost looked grateful as he left, and he wondered what exactly it was he would soon read.


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce looked up with a sigh as Damian slapped an official-looking document on his desk at the Batcomputer. "What is this?"

"A request to exhume the graves of Jack and Janet Drake so I may visit unspeakable horrors upon their corpses."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "And how does Tim feel about this?"

Damian clicked his tongue and scoffed. "The imbecile clearly suffers from something akin to Stockholm Syndrome. If it wasn't a waste of effort, I would cure him of it first. Now, my request, I assume you will approve it, being the man you are."

Bruce shook his head. "No, Damian. Things aren't as cut-and-dry as they appear on a report. For years, Tim thought his neglect was normal, that Chloe and Ben and, eventually, Sam were just imaginary friends. It wasn't until he was diagnosed and I had him read some case files, he realized it was criminal, at best. He still loves his parents, and somewhere in his head, he still believes they loved him. Approving this," he tapped the paper, "would do more harm than good, as much as I'd like to."

Damian snatched the document away, sneering. "This is merely a formality."

"Do you really want to hurt Tim?" Bruce asked, as bluntly as possible. "Do you really want to cause him significant emotional distress that may compromise his efficiency in the field?"

"He'll get over it."

"Damian. Put yourself in his place for a moment."

Damian snarled and tore the paper to shreds before stalking up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Bruce called after him.

Damian ignored him, taking a detour to his room to grab a pillow, blanket, and Alfred, before crossing the hall and barging into Tim's room.

The young man rolled over sharply, ready to confront a threat.

Damian plopped Alfred down in his lap before throwing his pillow to the head of the bed and falling onto it dramatically, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. "I require comfort."

"Okay?" Tim's hands settled hesitantly, one on the cat, one between Damian's shoulder blades. "What happened?"

"Father," Damian spat.

"Oh," Tim relaxed. "I can understand that. Do you - Do you want to spend the night?"

Damian scowled, thinking. "That is acceptable," he finally said, rolling onto his side to face his brother.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not particularly."

"Okay." Tim reached for his laptop. "How about a movie?" He began scrolling through his NetFlix list, when Damian stopped him.

"What is that?" he demanded.

Tim choked. "You've never seen Back to the Future? It's iconic! Look!" He stretched out his sleep shirt, which read 'I Was There' in the same font as the movie's title, a date and time listed below. "We're fixing that tonight. This is one of Sam's favorite movies, too, though, he might be content co-con, or he might come out to front in the middle."

"Fine." Damian scooted closer so his head rested on Tim's elbow. "We'll see if it's as good as you say."

Tim spluttered and played the movie, leaning back and digging his fingers into Alfred's fur. "I actually used to have an introject Doc Brown, we think," he started rambling. "But if I did, he integrated a few months after I first became Robin."

Damian ignored him in favor of the movie, making himself comfortable. This acquaintanceship was comfortable, he mused, perhaps a friendship was not undesirable.


	4. Chapter 4

Damian shifted the bowl of popcorn in his lap and leaned forward as Han Solo kicked Boba Fett into the Sarlacc Pit. "The bounty hunter did not deserve such an ignoble end. He works for money, does he not? He could be useful further into their quest."

Sam laughed. "He's not actually dead if you read the Legends. He crawls out of the Pit and goes on to have his own criminal empire."

"Like Todd."

Sam laughed so hard soda spurted out his nose. "Oh, my God, yes! Jason is totally Boba Fett!" He reached for the napkins Alfred had provided. "Who would Dick be?"

Damian thought for a moment. "Which character is the most overly affectionate and incessantly annoying?"

"Luke."

Damian's nose wrinkled in distaste. "I dislike Grayson as the protagonist."

Sam chuckled.

"You would be Solo, Chloe would be…."

"Padme, or maybe Shmi," Sam said. "They're in the prequels, we'll have to watch those next."

Damian nodded. "JJ, I believe, would be Princess Organa, as she is brash, but not without reason, and Drake…." He steepled his fingers as he thought.

"Tim wants to be Ewan McGregor's Obi-Wan. And your dad is totally Mace Windu."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Right, right, no more prequel references, I promise." Sam smiled and his face morphed into the vacant expression of a switch.

A moment later, Tim shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Sorry, this is my favorite part, I know you were having fun with Sam."

Damian scoffed. "I don't care."

Tim's brow furrowed and his eyes flickered left and right as they often did when he was deep in a discussion with one of his alters.

Damian huffed. "I didn't mean I do not care who I spend time with," he bit out. "I meant I do not care that you come out to enjoy things you like."

Tim was silent for a moment before puffing out a laugh. "Mind."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"You don't _mind._ "

"What's the difference?" He should have known better than to ask, because in seconds, Tim's phone was in his hand, and he was searching.

"Sometimes, it's contextual," the older boy explained, obviously paraphrasing whatever he was reading, "but usually, the difference is pretty substantive. 'I don't care' is total dismissal, and pretty rude, 'I don't mind' is an acknowledgement that whatever is happening or happened won't cause any distress or disturbance. You didn't learn this in ninja school?" he teased.

Damian crossed his arms and seated himself deeper in the cushions. "Certain things can only be learned through immersion," he said. "English will never be my first language."

Tim nodded. "I hear that."

Damian turned to him in shock. "You-?"

"My first language is Chinese." Tim waved a hand in the air. "My dad's a third generation immigrant and my mom was convinced Chinese was the business language of the future. I still have some biological family in Hangzhou, but I've never met them. I'm closer to bilingual, though, they taught me Chinese first, and I retained it, but once I started learning English at five, I was expected to only speak English. I got my daily Chinese in speaking with the neighbors' housekeeper and her family."

Damian squinted at Tim's face, picking out his more ethnic features. "That was not in your file."

Tim shrugged. "Yeah, I look pretty white, and my great-granddad anglicized our last name pretty good."

"What was your original surname?"

Tim frowned as he searched his memory. "Tseng?"

Damian choked on his popcorn. "How? How do you get Drake out of Tseng?"

"Well, T is kind of like D, and you have the compound at the beginning, and then G is just a voiced K." Tim threw his hands up in the air and threw popcorn at his brother's face. "Shut up, I don't know, maybe _Zēngzŭfù_ just really liked dragons."

Damian laughed before he could stop himself, and then Drake was laughing along with him. It felt good.

The next night, during patrol, Red Hood was being his usual annoying self, and after one too many encounters with the gun-toting vigilante, Damian felt his patience snap. "I do not take orders from Boba Fett!" he screeched.

The entire comm line went dead silent and Damian felt the heat rising in his cheeks, then Drake cackled and wheezed. "You can't say stuff like that while I'm mid-swing, _dìdì_!" he laughed.

Damian huffed and stomped his foot, beating a tactical retreat back to the manor.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Just so you know, the ages for this story are Rebirth, so Damian is 13 and Tim is 16.**_

.o.O.o.

Damian sighed, sitting on the stairs, waiting for the yelling to stop. "You don't want to go down there," he said, feeling a presence behind him.

Tim stopped and sat next to him, wincing at the sound of a crash. He sighed. "Usually, if I head down there, they'll stop. Bruce still thinks JJ is… well, not good."

"Father is ignorant. Clearly, he is not the World's Greatest Detective."

Tim laughed. "Who is, then?"

Damian frowned, thinking hard. "Gordon." He waved his hand in the air. "Oracle."

Tim nodded. "I can agree with you there."

A third voice joined the two already shouting, and the noise grew louder.

Damian glanced down at Tim's hands, then stood, brushing imaginary dirt off his knees. "I believe we should vacate."

Tim nodded. "Yeah." He tilted his head, listening. "Ice cream?"

Damian grinned, holding up a credit card. "Father pays."

Tim laughed, and the two ran for their skateboards.

By the time, they reached their favorite shop, just around the corner from Wayne Tower, they were out of breath and wishing they had remembered jackets. Tim went straight up to the counter, ordering very nearly two scoops of everything, then turned to Damian and grinned slyly. "Since Bruce is buying…."

Damian grinned. "Ten scoops tequila lime, please."

The shopkeeper chuckled, used to Wayne shenanigans, and rushed to fill their order.

Damian glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye, noting how strange he was acting.

Tim caught his glance and made a foul face. "We're too close to the tower, everybody's being quiet." He sighed and grabbed his bowl, heading to the cornermost table. "This is what happens when you base your routine on places instead of times."

"Ah," Damian said. "Silence is… disturbing, then?"

Tim shrugged. "Only when I don't have something else to focus on, but, yeah."

"I see."

Tim paused to shove a bite in his mouth and let it melt. "Anyways, how's school? You're accelerated, right?"

Damian scoffed. "I wish. I already have the equivalent of multiple doctorates through my studies with Mother, and now it is simply going through the boring routine of answering questions I already know so that my schooling is legally recognized in this country."

"Damn," Tim said. "You're what, grade eight?"

Damian nodded sharply.

"Well, three more years and Bruce'll let you drop out of high-school. If you want those doctorates here, you can get your GED then go through an online university at your own pace, I'm sure."

Damian eyed Tim carefully. "You do not wish to further your education?"

Tim winced. "I can't work full time, study full time, and do the other stuff. It's just not happening. I already have the respect of the board, and Bruce has it arranged so that even when you do take over ownership, I'll at least be Chairman, if not co. I honestly don't see the point in stressing myself to the point of a breakdown just so I have a piece of paper that says I'm good at the job I've already proved I'm great at."

"Excellent," Damian corrected. "Do not underestimate yourself."

Tim gave him a look.

"What?"

Tim shook his head. "Nothing, just three months ago, you would've gladly pushed me off a building. I didn't think much of it, but this is getting weird as it settles in."

Damian smirked. "Perhaps my grandfather's admiration for you is genetic."

Tim paled. "God, I hope not. He practically wants me to have his babies."

Damian choked on the ice cream, tilting his head back as he coughed. "What the hell, Drake?"

"You haven't noticed? Ra's is obsessed with me, like in the pervy old man type way." Drake shivered. "Just last year, I'd have called him a pedophile, but I guess I'm the age of consent now."

"That is despicable," Damian spat. "You are still a minor, and he is six - ty years old."

Tim smiled at his near-slip. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I will tell him to leave well enough alone."

"How are you going to get him to listen to you?" Tim asked. "I thought he… well."

Damian shrugged. "You can say it. Grandfather disowned me. Still, I think I can lie to him and say his interest in you is interfering with my own plans. It may be enough."

"What kind of plans?" Tim asked. "Just so we have our story straight."

"You would not know of such plans," Damian pointed out before he lapsed into thought. "Plans for your demise would simply provoke him to attack me and wouldn't fix the actual problem."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Please do not tell your pervy old grandfather to lay off so you can seduce me."

Damian made a face. "I do not think even I could lie that well. I now think of you as a friend and brother, but a romantic or sexual partner is still an abhorrent idea."

"Thank God," Tim mumbled, then paused. "You think of me as a brother now?"

Damian shrugged. "A sibling is simply a friend you are allowed to torture, correct? It wasn't that hard of a leap."

Tim smirked. "Guess so." He flicked his spoon, and suddenly, there was mint chocolate chip in Damian's hair, dripping down his face.

Damian stared in fury, then picked up his own spoon. "You shall pay for that, Drake."

Twenty minutes later, Bruce was called away from his fight with Dick and Jason to pick up his two younger sons and to pay for significant property damage. He sighed as he entered the shop and took note of its state. Oh, well, he had been meaning to buy the place anyways.


End file.
